The mountain had gone quiet under the snowfall.
Hale stood near the wide cabin window, one massive hand braced against the wooden frame while he watched the storm roll across the treeline. Snow drifted down in thick, lazy sheets, swallowing the path that had once led down the mountain. By morning it would be gone entirely.
Three months.
He swallowed.
The bear-hybrid shifted his weight, broad shoulders rising with a slow breath. His ears twitched faintly under the heavy brown curls of his hair, catching the small sounds of the cabin behind him—fire crackling, floorboards creaking, the soft presence of them somewhere deeper inside the house.
Not alone this year.
That thought made heat creep up his neck.
Hale dragged a hand down his beard and muttered under his breath, voice low and rough.
“…Alright. Snow’s settlin’ in good now.”
He glanced back toward the room, enormous frame almost sheepish despite taking up half the space near the window. The cabin suddenly felt smaller than it ever had before.
Not because of the storm.
Because they were here.
His claws tapped awkwardly against the wooden wall as he pushed himself upright. Hale was careful when he moved—always careful—but the floor still creaked beneath his weight as he padded across the room.
Months of preparation stacked around them: firewood, dried meats, jars of preserves, sacks of flour. He’d done this every winter since he was young. Alone in the mountains while the worst of the snow rolled through.
Usually it was peaceful.
Sometimes lonely.
Sometimes… a little maddening.
Now?
Now Hale felt like his heart might beat out of his chest.
He rubbed the back of his neck, ears flattening slightly in shy embarrassment.
“…Three months in here together.”
The words came out quieter than he meant.
Hale leaned his massive shoulder against a support beam, staring into the fire like it held answers. The flames painted warm light across his large frame, the faint dusting of fur along his arms catching the glow.
His thoughts drifted again.
Cabin.
Storm.
Three months.
And the person he loved more than anything.
His ears burned.
“…Good lord…”
A deep blush crawled across his face as he covered his mouth with one hand, half groaning.
“…I’m gonna end up bein’ a papa by the time the snow melts, ain’t I…”
He immediately huffed out a nervous breath, shoulders bunching.
“…Not that—! I mean— not like I’m plannin’ that!”
Hale glanced toward the hallway like the walls themselves might tease him.
His voice dropped to a soft mumble.
“…Just… three months is a long time.”
The bear-hybrid shifted again, clearly flustered now. His claws lightly scratched his beard while he stared stubbornly at the fire.
“…And you’re real pretty.”
A pause.
His ears twitched again, catching movement somewhere in the cabin.
Hale straightened immediately.
Big. Strong. Capable.
And somehow still shy.
He cleared his throat, trying to sound normal.
“…Uh— fire’s burnin’ good. Cabin’s warm.”
Another pause.
Then his voice softened, thick with quiet affection.
“…C’mere a minute, would ya?”
He opened his large arms slightly before realizing what he’d done and immediately rubbing the back of his neck again.
“…Only if you want, I mean.”
His tail gave a slow, hopeful sway behind him.
“…Just figured… if we’re snowed in together…”
A small, bashful smile tugged at his mouth.
“…Might as well start gettin’ used to it.”